Girls Can Play Quidditch
by K M Rose
Summary: It is quite possible she should have been in Gryffindor, but before she had time to utter a word otherwise the Hat had spoken. Sarra Evans was in Slytherin. AU. Please R&R.
1. Prologue, and Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER**: I do NOT own Harry Potter or any characters therein. They belong to Warner Brother's as well as JK Rowling.

**-A/N- **

Let me start off by saying, this is an Alternate Universe. Some situations from the books have occurred (such as the killing of the Potters, blah blah blah all that mess still happened) and some others may or may not find their way here. With that out of the way here is a bit o' personal background info on our original character, and heroine.

Sarra (pronounced like Sarah) Evans isn't Lily's sister, she is in fact her daughter. When Voldemort was growing in power (long ago) Lily sent Sarra as well as her muggle parents (hence the surname Evans) to live in France…in order to protect them. Sarra went to school at Beauxbatons until Harry's first year, when she convinced her grandparents to let her transfer to Hogwarts, saying that Harry needed looking after. Upon arrival at Hogwarts, Sarra received news that her grandparents had died in a metro derailment. Everyone who knew exactly who she was was certain that she would be placed in Gryffindor. Well, not only was she NOT placed in Gryffindor, she was placed in Slytherin. How? No one really knows, maybe she was so upset by her grandparents and would do anything within her power to have them back that the Sorting Hat was convinced of her powerful emotions and brute cunning, and therefore saw it fitting that Sarra should be placed where she had. And it is quite possible she should have been a Gryffindor, but before she had time to utter word otherwise the Hat had spoken.

**-----the story-----**

Sarra Evans wasn't one for jokes. She certainly didn't like it if they were played on her, and if they involved paint falling all down her front. Closing the door to the mop closet, she quickly walked back down the hall from whence she had come, dripping canary yellow paint along the way. Rounding the corner she met face to face the boy who had given her the directions to the closet in the first place.

"How was the meeting Evans? Make the Hufflepuff team did you?" Marcus Flint, was without a doubt the biggest git Sarra had ever had the displeasure to know, and unluckily for her he had just succeeded in making her feel like a fool. Taking out her wand she pointed it at herself muttering, "_Scourgify_"

"No, Flint. They told me that you did, and to congratulate you they wanted me to give you this, _Fulvus__taxus_!" A yellow badger erupted from her wand, and given its confusion at being removed from whatever habitat it had previously been a part of, the badger turned quite angry and thus began attacking Flint's face and neck. The rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team, who had assembled behind Flint, quickly dispersed, though a few stayed to help rid their captain of the pesky creature.

Turning on her heel, Sarra's face connected with the chest of her head of house. "Miss Evans," drawled out Professor Snape. "It seems to me that you are attempting to sabotage your own house team. Am I correct?"

"If by sabotage you mean, exact my revenge then…yes, you are correct."

"Revenge, Miss Evans?" Snape cocked and eyebrow, disbelievingly.

"Professor Snape, I do not appreciate being lied to and covered in paint, merely because I have expressed an interest in my House's Quidditch team." Sarra pointed at the boy who was now out of breath, tightly holding a badger no bigger than a small guinea pig in his hands. "They tricked me!"

Snape chortled, "Now, Miss Evans, you and I both know that Mr. Flint and the rest of the team are incapable of such profound ideas. But you on the other hand are quite capable of producing a very large and very angry badger and setting it loose onto a student. For that I must deduct 15 points from Slytherin and give you detention."

"WHAT?!" Sarra was appalled! "Detention? Professor, I was mentally and emotionally bullied by these, these…imbeciles! Certainly you aren't going to punish me?! Look! There is yellow paint on the floor! Right there!"

"Miss Evans, your attack on Mr. Flint was all that I witnessed. Therefore the only act that I can punish, you are to report to my classroom at 8:30 this evening, understood?" Snape didn't even wait for the girl to respond, he turned around twirling his cloak expertly and left towards the dungeons. Noticing Flint's smug look, Sarra rounded on him. "Don't think this is over yet Flint. I will be on the Quidditch team whether you like it or not." Flint let out a guffaw that made him sound even more ridiculous than his normal voice, "You'll never be on the team Evans, you are a girl. Every knows girls can't play good Quidditch, that's why there are no girls in the pro's!"

"What about the French team then, huh?" Sarra crossed her arms, knew she had won now. The French team was phenomenal, not to mention entirely female. Flint just smiled, "Like I said, girls can't play Quidditch." He turned and left, with the badger tucked into his breast pocket, towards the Great Hall, leaving her in the middle of the hallway, arms crossed, deflated but not defeated. 'I will be on that team. Even if I have to disguise myself…I'll be on that team.'

--

--

'8:15'

"Bugger." Looking at her watch, Sarra couldn't help it. She really needed to finish this paper on 'Mundane Plants, and their Magical Uses,' and she definitely did not want to go to…detention. The word made her bristle. "Damn it all!"

"What's wrong?" Sarra had met Amanda Pruitt (a Ravenclaw) during Herbology when they had been partnered up to re-pot mandrakes, they were immediately best friends.

"I have detention in fifteen minutes with Snape. I neglected to tell you, sorry." Sarra stretched and picked up her books and parchment.

"You will be having a chat with me at breakfast about it alright? Don't worry about this paper, I'll finish, and you can look at my notes, ok?" Amanda stood to hug her friend, before she watched her trudge out of the library and towards the dungeons.

'Stupid Flint, and his stupid team. Stupid Snape! Stupid detention! Argh! Stupid life!!!' Sarra glared at the black door that signified her doom for the next hour. She raised her hand to knock but found that the door was opening due to the Boy-Who-Lived and his redheaded friend exiting, followed by Snape calling after them, "So, keep your sass at the door Potter!" Seeing Sarra at the door he stepped aside allowing her entrance. "So what did they do?" She set her book bag down taking a seat at one of the black topped tables. Snape walked to his desk straightening papers, "They, Miss Evans decided to backtalk me during class, so I had them clean all the tables. Topsides, and undersides…no magic."

"That's not such a big deal. If that's all detention is then I won't have any problem!" Sarra rolled up her sleeves and made to get towels out of the closet, when Snape stopped her. "Who said you were going to be cleaning? Get your belongings and follow me." The two of then left the dungeons, left the school, and out to the Pitch. "Do you have a broom?" He asked.

"What? No, why? What kind of detention is this?"

"Go get one from the locker room." Sarra was beyond confused. She thought she was going to have detention, not 'Fly-about-the-Pitch' time, so she repeated her question, "What kind of detention is this?"

"You said you wanted to be on the Quidditch team right? Well, I have to see what you can do before I invest my time in helping you. Now, got get a broom." Snape walked out onto the Pitch where the ball chest, some extra Quaffles as well as an extra broom were placed. When Sarra returned with a broom of her own in hand he asked her, "What position?" When he didn't receive an answer he looked up at the young girl with a flaming red face and a quite embarrassed expression on it. "Christ, Evans! What position do you play?!"

"Wh-what?" relieved to hear that Professor Snape did not in fact intend to lay her, she stammered, "Ch-chaser. I play chaser."

"What did you think he was asking? Huh, girlie?" an older woman was walking up to the two.

"Ah, Madam Hooch. This is Miss Sarra Evans. She wishes to try out for Slytherin chaser. Do you think you'd be able to test her a bit as I evaluate?" Snape looked at Madam Hooch, who picked up a Quaffle and threw it at Sarra who clearly wasn't paying attention, but caught it solidly nonetheless.

"I think I can do that." Said Hooch, as she picked up her broom and kicked off into the air.

--

--

End ch. 1

**-A/N- **

A bit short for my liking, but I really wanted it posted to see what you all thought. Is it worth continuing? Are there any logistical problems that are too huge to be ignored? Please please please let me know!

Itou () Tythe ()


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER**: I do NOT own Harry Potter or any characters therein. They belong to Warner Brother's as well as JK Rowling.

**-A/N-** So there wasn't much feedback with ch 1, I'm hoping that I get more feedback with this chapter. I really would enjoy hearing what you have to say!

**-----the story-----**

He had to hand it to her. She could play, though regrettably in a style that he had seen before. "That is enough, Miss Evans." Snape stood from the bench where he was seated and made his way to the middle of the Pitch, where Sarra and Madam Hooch had touched down.

"Miss Evans, I am impressed. Here…" Snape flicked his wand and a patch appeared. It was green with a sliver S on it much like the emblem on her cloak, only it had two brooms crossed behind it, and the word 'CHASER' written underneath. Thus, signifying that she was, in fact, on the Slytherin Quidditch Team. Taking the embroidered piece of cloth from Snape's hand, Sarra looked up, and genuinely grinned. To hell with those boys telling her she couldn't be on the team, she was, and she was elated. She had defeated Flint without bloodshed, or any kind of fight!

She proved to Snape and Madam Hooch that she was a great player, better than the entire Slytherin team! Sarra was so overjoyed that she couldn't help but run to Madam Hooch and give her a hug. She turned to Snape, and before the man could so much as sneer, Sarra had also embraced him. "Miss Evans, I believe you have completed your detention. You may return to your dormitory." Snape twirled his cloak, and headed back towards the school.

Madam Hooch picked up her broom, and the Quidditch chest, and left towards the school giving Sarra a nod of approval, "You play well, kiddo."

Sarra just stood on the Pitch. She was way too excited to go back to the dingy dorm under the lake. She wanted to fly about, and practice! Only, there was no one to practice with, so she picked up her broom as well as the Quaffles, and headed to the locker room.

As she put up all the equipment, she heard voices coming from across the hallway in the Gryffindor locker room; the voices seemed to belong to an older and a younger boy. Curious, Sarra walked across the hall pressing her ear to the door.

"Really!" The younger boy's voice was heavy with uncertainty.

"Really." The older boy answered. "We need to teach you a bit before we put you out on the Pitch, eh?"

Hearing the boys walk towards the door, Sarra quickly leapt back into the Slytherin locker room, so as not to be seen, though she did manage a quick peek at the two boys. She immediately recognized the younger boy as famed Harry "The Boy-Who-Lived" Potter…her brother. That wasn't a big deal, it was the older Gryffindor who fascinated Sarra. He was quite tall and lean. He had shortish brown hair, and brown eyes (which were much darker compared to her own rather dark hazel ones). She watched him a bit and as she did so she felt her heart start to race. He was gorgeous!

As they walked past the doorway, Sarra shrunk back against the lockers so that they wouldn't see her face peering out from behind some towels. She stayed that way for nearly fifteen minutes, lost in her thoughts of the highly attractive boy whom her eyes met, oh so recently. After another ten minutes or so, she had successfully willed her heart to stop trying to leap from her chest, and peered back out in to the hallway knowing full well that Harry and the other boy were out on the pitch. Gathering her things (a borrowed broom, a Quaffle, and bookbag) she crept towards the Pitch, hoping to get a glimpse of the heartthrob before she went back to her common room. "Hey, wotch--ooof!"

Sarra had barely noticed that she had knocked her own brother over on her way out to the Pitch. She snapped back to earth, and gave Harry a sweet smile and offered out her hand to help him, when he swatted it away saying, "No! I can get up myself, _thanks_. You'd probably just help me up to push me down again anyways; I don't need anything from any sickly, slimy, _Slytherin_ thank you!" He got up, and pushed past Sarra and into the hallway leading to the locker rooms.

She nearly forgot herself. She should have marched right into the locker room and given his ear a good tweaking, not to mention a good swat to the back of his head for calling her slimy, had it not been for the sound of a Quaffle being thrown a tad clumsily and landing right behind her, she would have.

"Oi! I'm sorry about that." The older boy that Sarra had mooned over earlier landed right in front of her. He looked at her and was speechless for a moment, looking in to her hazel eyes, and noticing her dark auburn hair, the red in it standing out in the moonlight. "Oh, uhm. My name is Oliver Wood," offering Sarra a handshake (which she accepted).

"Sarra Evans."

"I'm the Gryffindor Captain and Keeper. I don't think I've seen you before, do you go here?"

Sarra laughed lightly, "Yes, I do."

Oliver cocked an eyebrow quizzically, "What house are you in, cause I don't think I've seen you before."

"…Slytherin."

"What?! Really? I would have pegged you for Gryffindor, or Ravenclaw, but _Slytherin_? Wow. Ok…um…wow. Alright, so, what are you doing out here on the Pitch by yourself," noticing the broom and Quaffle he added, "You play Quidditch?"

Sarra smiled meekly, "I just tried out for the Slytherin team as Chaser, and made it." Oliver looked at her blankly. "What? Are you shocked that I play Quidditch cause I'm a girl?"

"No! No, no no! I'm shocked that they _let you on the team_ because you're a girl. There has never, once, ever been a girl on the Slytherin House team! Ever! You must be pretty good if Flint let you on the team." Oliver smiled imagining how good this girl must be to have Flint override his blatant sexism and let her on the team.

"Oh, yeah, um…see, Flint doesn't know yet. Professor Snape had Madame Hooch test me, and he put me on the team. So, as you can imagine the first practice will be a bit interesting." She smiled again, Oliver couldn't help but like her, even though she was due to be his enemy within the start of the season. "Hey." He said pulling her Quaffle out of her grasp. "Why don't we practice some. Could be fun, eh?" He mounted his broom and kicked off heading for the goal posts. Sarra followed right behind.

Once he reached the posts, Oliver tucked the Quaffle under his arm. "See if you can tackle this from me Evans!" He flew straight towards her, veering away at the last minute. "Oh! It's on now Wood!" She followed close behind him, watching his moves and mimicking them. First to the right, then to the left. Then to the left again, followed by a steep climb, and then a fast switch to the right. He formed a pattern without realizing it. She let him continue with this pattern until the third drop, when she moved to the right a bunch and veered to the left into Oliver nearly knocking him off his broom, but successfully gaining the Quaffle. "Haha! Thought you could out maneuver a Chaser? Go fly into your little hoops and let's see if I can get a score off of you, huh?"

"Right, you wish!" Oliver flew up to the Hoops, ready. Sarra looked at each of the three Hoops, making her decision carefully. Flying towards the Hoop on Oliver's left (the middle one in heath) she faked and actually threw the Quaffle in the middle hoop (the tallest), eliciting a gasp of shock from Oliver who simply looked up at the hoop…the Quaffle long ago taking residence upon the ground some fifty feet below. "Wow." He slowly turned to face the young woman who had just succeeded in making a score off of him, Oliver Wood, the best Keeper Gryffindor had see in ages! He was astonished to say the least.

He made his way to the ground, and walked over to the Quaffle handing it back to Sarra, who had landed softly a moment after. "You fly well. Flint would be stupid if he kicked you off." Looking at his watch he noticed it was nearly eleven which meant nearly curfew. "Let me walk you back to the school, I'll just be a second." He practically ran to the Gryffindor common room to get his belongings. "Ready?"

"Ready."

And they were off, each sneaking furtive glances at the other as they made their way back.

--

--

**End ch. 2**

**-A/N-** Now people, I need your feedback. Let me know if this is worth continuing! I have actually come to like it, and I hope you all do also! Ok? Good. REVIEW!!!! That said and done, I hope you all have safe and happy lives. Itou/Tythe


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER**: I do NOT own Harry Potter or any characters therein. They belong to Warner Brother's as well as JK Rowling.

**-A/N-** NOTE!!!!!!!!!!!

**THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN EDITED!!!! **

This is somewhat of a building chapter.

**-----the story-----**

A few weeks had passed, and Sarra Evans was still on the Slytherin team (though Flint took the argument all the way to the headmaster, reasoning that it was an _upheld tradition_ to _not_ let girls on the team! To which Professor Dumbledore replied, 'Traditions always change Mr. Flint.') It was wonderful.

At breakfast the Great Hall was alive with jovial chatter, a practice match was being held between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw in order to prepare the way for the opening of the season. Sarra was excited, not because she would get to see a rather good match, but because it meant that in a few short days she herself would be on a broom, tackling other players, throwing the Quaffle, scoring points to where it wouldn't even matter if the other team caught the Snitch, her team would still win.

"Evans!" Sarra's eyes lifted from her plate and into the eyes of her captain.

"What do you want Flint, can't you see that I'm eating, and that I'd rather not start my morning off by vomiting?"

"I only came by to tell you that the entire team will have practice tonight after dinner. Snape says that if anyone is late then they will be cut, so…don't be late." Flint then took a piece of toast off of Sarra's plate and left, without even telling her what time she needed to be on the Pitch, or even thank you for the toast. "I guess I'll just have to ask someone…" said Sarra to herself as she looked up from her plate. She had a hard time locating someone because it was a Saturday morning that had nothing to do with Slytherin being out on the pitch, therefore…no one from her house was there, save for a few snotty faced first years.

As she was looking around, she noticed that the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor teams were standing up, saying goodbye to friends, and getting ready to head down to the Pitch. Deciding that it was time for her to head down as well, Sarra stood and left the Great Hall to make her way to the Pitch, see that Amanda was busy cheering on the Ravenclaw team.

--

--

"I've never done anything like this before. I'm nervous"

"Now Harry, just relax."

"But what if I'm not any good, Oliver?"

"That girl-friend of yours told you that you were good didn't she?"

"She's not my girlfriend, but yeah…"

"Then you'll be just fine, besides this isn't any different than a team practice.

"But Oliver--"

"It doesn't matter if you catch the Snitch or not, because the points here won't count. Just go out there and do your best."

Oliver Wood stood in the Gryffindor locker room giving Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, the boy who made You-Know-Who no more than a whisper of evil, a pep talk; ignoring the rest of the team's cajoling hoorahs and other such hullabaloo. Looking at his watch, Oliver picked up his broom and got his team's attention, "It's time." They all collected themselves in to the official order (Keeper, Beaters, Chasers, Seeker), then made their way to the door at the end of the hall leading onto the pitch

The tension became nearly too much for the young Seeker to handle until the door opened and he heard the voice of the Weasley twin's friend, Lee Jordan announce the Ravenclaw team (Page, Inglebee, Samuels, Davies*, Stretton, Burrow, and Chang), then the Gryffindor team (Wood*, F Weasley, G Weasley, Johnson, Bell, Spinnet, Potter). Both teams mounted their brooms and shot out of the hallway, climbing up into the air.

--

--

Sarra couldn't believe it, thirty minutes into the game and the score was already 40 to 10, Gryffindor. She really did want them to win, even though Amanda would want her to root for Ravenclaw.

After another forty minutes the score had become a bit closer: 80 to 60, Ravenclaw. Sarra found herself yelling at the Gryffindor chasers: "Tackle that guy!" "Get the Quaffle! Get it! Get it! Get it!" "What was that? You call that a barrel roll? Come on!"

The few students in the Slytherin section kept turning to glare at her. 'They're most likely first years,' thought Sarra, though one student in particular kept eyeing her, he was blond and had a glower plastered on his face. "Do you mind? A few of us would like to enjoy the defeat of Gryffindor without your incessant clattering." The blonde boy turned back towards the field, the girl who sat halfway in his lap cooed "Draco, you are wonderfully attractive when you do things like that!"

Draco…that name meant something. Ah yes, Draco Malfoy; son of that vile man Lucius. Sarra was a bit miffed. This eleven year old _boy_ had the nerve to say such a thing to her! Clattering indeed, "Actually, I do mind. I for one would love to see Gryffindor win, it will just make their defeat next week that much sweeter. And they _will_ lose next week, I will make certain of it."

The first-year girl draped over Draco, laughed…at her! "You will make _certain_?! How do you propose to do that?"

"Outscore them."

It was Draco's turn to laugh "How can you make sure that we outscore them? Have the house elves prepare an exceptionally well balanced meal for the team? Ruthlessly cheer from the stands? Polish their brooms?"

"No, no, no. Exactly what I said. Outscore them. I'm on the team…"

"You are no such thing! Everyone knows girls can't play Quidditch!

"Excuse me, we can, and I am."

"If you're on the team then prove it!"

Sarra scoffed at the idea, she had no need to prove herself to some stuck up eleven year olds. "I don't need to prove myself to the likes of you." Draco was taken aback. No one had ever spoken to him thus! _He_ was Draco _Malfoy_. If he asked for something by God he got it, and furthermore!! no one disrespected him…_ever_. He stood up and faced Sarra, saying, "You might not need to prove anything, but you _will_ respect me. Do you know who I am?"

Sarra also stood up (her full height being a good foot and a half taller than the young boy in front of her,) "Yes, I know who you are. You are a blonde headed little prat, who hides behind mummy's money, and daddy's ministry influence. Yes, I know exactly who you are Draco Malfoy, and do you know who I am?"

Draco shrunk back a bit, but in a vain attempt to keep his face in front of his friends, he said, "No! But it doesn't matter. You can't touch me! I'm a Malfoy!"

It was Sarra's turn to laugh, "Oh, you may think that you're invincible, but just you wait. You'll get your comeuppance sooner or later. Also, I do indeed matter…remember me Draco…my name is Sarra Evans…and I can make your life miserable."

--

--

"You said that?! To Malfoy? Girl, congratulations, you've got guts." Amanda shook Sarra's hand in mock admiration.

The two girls were in the library looking at books for a three foot, Astronomy essay that they had to write, "The Correlation Between Sky and Myth."

"But the worst part about it was that I missed the last play of the game!" Sarra plopped the books that she had been carrying on to the table.

"What? The part where Potter didn't catch the Snitch, but chased it right in to Chang's hands?" Amanda opened the first book 'Greek Myths for the Not So Informed' and thumbed to the section on Atalanta and the Golden Apples. "It really wasn't all that spectacular, Ravenclaw just beat the best Quidditch team at Hogwarts, final score of 240 to 90. Oh yeah! Alright! Mmhhmm!" Amanda began doing a variation on the Cabbage Patch…and for a girl whose father was an African-American tap dancer in the States, and whose mother taught ballet, she really had no sense rhythm.

"Amanda…please stop. People are beginning to stare." Sarra put a hand on her friend's shoulder in order to quell the erratic, as well as slightly embarrassing, movement meant to be a victory dance. Amanda quit, and picked up her quill to take notes on the myth at hand.

Here is how the story goes:

_In the land of Arcadia there was a King and Queen who hoped for a boy, yet when the Queen produced a girl they threw her (the baby) to the wilderness. Raised by a she-bear, and then hunters, Atalanta grew to be a strong, beautiful, fleet young woman. _

_As a young woman, she led a party to defeat the Boar of Calydon, and defeat it they did. A few years later, after being told by an oracle she would be ruined if she were to marry, Atalanta set up a contest to win her hand in marriage. All of the suitors that wanted to marry her would have to race her, and if they beat her in the race, they won her hand in marriage, if not they would die by her hand. _

_One day, a young man by the name of Hippomenes, showed up, she begged him not to race her, for she feared that if he lost she would have to kill him. This would be most dreadful for she had already fallen in love with him. Yet, due to her competitive nature and the oracle's promise that marriage will be her demise, she would have to kill him should he lose – per the rules of her own contest._

_Hippomenes__ prayed to Aphrodite for help in winning the race and thus Atalanta's hand. Aphrodite took pity on the man and devised a plan to help him win the race, without exactly cheating of course. She gave him three golden apples and told him to throw them upon the ground at different times during the race. He did. Atalanta was distracted by these apples, stopping each time to pick them up. This gave Hippomenes an advantage, thus leading him to a victory and Atalanta's hand in marriage._

--

"Some story, huh?" said Amanda breaking the silence

Sarra had been reading over Amanda's shoulder, and when the other girl spoke it frightened her a bit.

"Whoa! Sorry, didn't mean to scare you, just wanted your opinion."

"Oh, yeah. It's great. Atalanta is a wonderful example of…umm…god-like mortal strength, though…I don't think she's a constellation. Why don't we try Orion or something." It was at that precise moment that a paper airplane landed nose first into Sarra's temple. "What the hell?!" She could hear snickering and giggling coming from the bookshelf behind her, it sounded like a bunch of little boys, one of them whispered, "Read it!!"

Sighing Sarra picked up the paper Muggle transportation device and unfolded it. The paper was blank save for five words…'I know who you are.' And a salutation which possessed only three words…'little blonde prat.' Sarra snorted.

"Well isn't this just cute. Look." She handed the note to her friend who read it and immediately began to laugh. "This is priceless! Does he seriously think that you are trying to hide something? Oh my god…wow."

"How dare you ridicule me? I'll have you know that I do indeed…know things." Draco Malfoy decided to reveal himself at that moment as the owner of the document currently in the older Ravenclaw's hands. Amanda placed her hands on her hips as Sarra crossed her arms. The former just glared, and the latter asked, "You _know _who I am, and who, pray tell, am I?"

"You know who you are." The first year could honestly admit that he was a bit intimidated by Sarra Evans, yet he was also a tad enthralled by her domineering presence.

Sarra spoke, "No, Draco, I don't know, please inform me. Impart on us you vast knowledge of…_who I am_" She sat down, and crossed her legs, showing a lot of thigh, knowing that she was being a tease, and that it was wrong to do that to this little boy, but she couldn't pass up the opportunity to make a Malfoy feel like a fool.

"I-I-I have to go. Crabbe? Goyle? We're leaving." The embarrassed Malfoy heir, turned on his heel and left out of the library with his two lummoxes following like the whipped, puppies they were.

Amanda swatted her friend's arm, "Ooh girl, you gonna use those feminine wiles out on the Pitch?"

The Pitch! "Amanda what time is it?"

"7:45, why?"

"Gah! Pucey told me that practice started at 7:40! Shit. I gotta go!" Sarra grabbed her bag and left…

"…Leaving me to do the essay, by myself, again." Amanda sighed and just kept on reading and taking notes.

--  
--

End ch.3

-A/N- So, now that this chapter has been edited, what do you people out there think? Once again, that review button won't bite you, you know. How am I supposed to know if I've done something terribly, terribly wrong? Please R&R

– Itou/Tythe


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER**: I do NOT own Harry Potter or any characters therein. They belong to JK Rowling.

**-A/N-** **-A/N-** Yeah I just completed my first year of college….and boy was it an adventure! Anyway, for all who were inquisitive, Sarra is in her 5th year (same as Oliver)…I'm trying to keep everyone as in-character as possible as well as attempt cannon-ocity with the events, but I'm fairly certain that I won't be very successful. (sorry)

I apologize for the delayed updates….I hope that for a while I'll be able to update more regularly.

Also, I apologize upfront about the shortish chapter. I intend for them to become a bit more lengthy…

Also, also, I might be doing some major revisions so keep on the lookout for those. Please, please, please. Let me know if there is anything amiss! I can rewrite, explain, or whatever! Don't be afraid to give me constructed criticism! I welcome it.

Alright… Onward with the story.

**-----the story-----**

She hoped that she wasn't too terribly late. She would probably kill herself is she was kicked of the team. Sarra Evans lived for Quidditch.

Racing out onto the Pitch with her broom in hand she realized that she had been made a fool of, for the second time this term. No one was in the air or on the Pitch at all. There was no one there. "Why would Pucey lie to me?!" She stood in the middle of the Pitch and thought, 'No, Pucey wouldn't lie to me…Flint must have put him up to it.' She raced back to the school and made for the Owlery.

Picking out a non-descript screech owl, instead of Hedgar (her own great horned owl), she quickly penned out a note to send to her "beloved" captain.

'Continue as you are and you will find out exactly what I can do. Don't. Test. Me.' She rolled up the note and tied it to the owl's leg. Sarra opened the window and told the owl that it needn't wait for a reply. As she watched the bird fly off into the night, her own owl, Hedgar, flitted to where she was standing. He nipped at her fingers, and hooted angrily. "Ouch! Hedgar! Here!" Sarra got out a treat and fed it to him. He took the treat he made sure to bite her finger, hoping he drew blood. Jealous? Him? Yeah, he was one jealous, mean-spirited owl.

--

--

Oliver Wood could honestly say that he was smitten. He had only known the girl for about four or five weeks and had only spoken with her once, but he was indeed…interested. His eyes scanned the Great Hall during breakfast looking for her auburn hair at the Slytherin table, when he finally found her she was reading "Potions! Everything That You Could Screw Up, But Shouldn't!!" She seemed so out of place there, with the constant sneers and jeers from the Slytherins towards everyone else in the Hall.

Sarra seemed like she should be outside under a tree where she could easily look down the dale and see the pitch clearly, so that she could daydream about Quidditch that much more easily. At least that's what he assumed she'd daydream about, he really actually wasn't sure.

Yes, Sarra Evans was his kind of girl he thought: smart, witty, and completely in love with Quidditch—again, he wasn't quite sure, thought that was the impression he got from her when he met her that one night. He really should talk to her again, to make sure that his assumptions are correct. "I need to talk to her soon; I don't know how long I can go without knowing anything about her."

As he watched several students get up from their meals and start heading to class he was reminded that the Gryffindor/Slytherin game was coming up, "I'll talk to her later… right now I've got to concentrate on Quidditch, she is the enemy…"

--

--

She didn't care for Potions at all, even though she had her mother's knack for them, she just didn't like the subject so much.

Today, the class had to choose a potion to brew that included ten out of the fifty mundane plants they were supposed to have written about, a month ago. Once the entire class had more or less halfway succeeded, they were allowed to leave.

"I need to have a word with you Miss Evans" Snape was sitting at his desk, shuffling through some papers.

"Yes, Professor?" Sarra really wanted to get to the Pitch so that she could practice before the game (in three days)

"I would like to ask you if you wouldn't mind being a tutor for a few of my first year students."

"Tutor? Professor, I'm at minimum barely passing your class!"

"Only because you don't try, now you will be tutoring Harry Potter at 7:15 after dinner on Wednesdays, and Draco Malfoy at 8 on Thursdays. Understood?"

"Whoa, Harry and Malfoy? Sir, you can't be serious! I can't tutor them!" Sarra really couldn't, being related to the wondrous "Boy-Who-Lived" and remembering the interaction with the little blond prat, from the previous evening, tutoring them would end badly for all involved. "Isn't there anyone else? What about Bradford? He's great at Potions, why not use him? Or Haskett, or that one Ravenclaw girl..umm what is her name..Julia something—

"Miss Evans….why are you trying to get me to change my mind? They will not bite you, if anything they will be afraid of your incessant rambling, now please…you have your instructions. Report to my office on Wednesday at 4:30 after classes to get their curriculum, be on your way."

"Fine Professor Snape, but if anything terrible happens…it will be on you. Sarra left the dungeons and headed out to the Pitch, where a commotion was arising.

--

--

End Ch. 4

A/N – so yeah. This was shorter than I wanted, but I needed to post what I had. Is there anything that I need to improve upon, or explain mo' betterah for anyone? If so please let me know in a review!!

Kthxbai

Itou Tythe


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER**: I do NOT own Harry Potter or any characters therein. They belong to J. K. Rowling.

A/N – Not much to say here

**-----the story-----**

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Oliver was nose to nose with Flint, while the rest of the Gryffindor team was circled around George Weasley who had his brother's head cradled in his lap; he had been hit in the head with a Bludger.

"Just trying to get my point across, since you clearly weren't listening. Maybe you'll listen now. Get off the Pitch, Wood." Flint was a twirling a bat in his hand while the other was lazily wrapped around the handle of his broom.

"Flint, we were fucking here first! YOU get off the Pitch." Oliver wasn't one for cursing unless absolutely necessary, and at this point…it was getting rather necessary.

The other captain reached into his robes and pulled out a note signed by Professor Snape, "We have permission to be here to practice right now? See?"

Oliver held a similar note in his hand signed by Professor McGonagall, "We do, too! So, bugger off and let us practice!"

Sarra could see that this was getting nowhere fast, so she decided to take some kind of initiative. "I have a proposal gentleman!" She quickly stepped between the two of them, "Why don't we have scrimmage, right now?"

"I have only one Beater!" Oliver was a bit irritated, he didn't want to confront the Slytherins with a match, or he would have suggested it before Fred had gotten injured.

Flint shrugged, "S'not my problem. You should have listened!"

Oliver balked, "The hell it isn't your problem! You wanker, you hit him!" Angelina and Katie had to literally hold Oliver back.

"We'll play with only one Beater as well!" Sarra turned to Flint, and narrowed her eyes saying, "Won't we, Marcus?"

"Like hell we will! I don't have to do anything for those…losers." Flint's gaze swept over the Gryffindor team.

"Who are you calling losers?" Harry had been standing behind Oliver during the entire altercation. Seeming to have gotten the courage to say something to the quarreling fifth years, he stepped forward and tried his best to look menacing. Sarra couldn't help but think that he looked like their father pretending to be Nessie, she couldn't help the giggle that erupted from her.

Harry snapped his face towards Sarra, "And why are you laughing? You think it's funny, that we have an injured player?! You Slytherins are just a bunch of cold heartless brutes!" Sarra's expression did a complete 180. She went from laughing and smiling, to nearly being on the verge of boxing her brother's ears.

"Excuse me? I'm the one trying to keep your captain from getting you lot injured any further! I thought that would be the primary objective here, but clearly you want your team to end up in the hospital wing, causing a forfeit in our favor for the match this weekend. Right?" She turned back towards her teammates then decided to add, "Oh and by the way, don't let McGonagall find out about your Potions grades, or she pull you off the team in a heartbeat. Let's get out of here Flint. We'll still win if they practice now or not, so let it go."

Flint looked down at Sarra for a long time before finally muttering "Fine," and gathering up their team.

"I'm not finished here!"

"Harry, hush." Oliver understood that Sarra was trying to help them out, but Harry was determined to take a stand for his captain and for his fallen teammate.

"How do you know about my grades?"

Sarra narrowed her eyes, it was getting harder and harder every second not to just tell him, but it would be a tad awkward to just come out and say, "Oh hello, my name isn't Sarra Evans it is in fact Sarra Potter, and I'm your sister! What's that? No one told you that you had a sister? Oh, yes, well that's because Dumbledore said it would be safer for everyone involved, if I went to live with our grandparents in France, while the Dark Lord, went to the house and murdered our folks." No, it wouldn't be right. If Harry needed to know, someone would have told him by now, so for the moment Sarra would have to settle on saying, "Professor Snape has asked me to tutor you. That's how I know. I'd suggest you listen to your captain. He has a good head on his shoulders, keep your mouth shut and it will stay there."

"Are you threatening him?!" Harry bowed up. He wasn't going to let any sort of harm befall Oliver, because he was sort of like the older brother the young boy had never had.

"No Harry, she isn't threatening me. Now go help everyone get Fred to the hospital wing." Oliver turned to Sarra, his had outstretched.

Sarra looked down at it, and slowly raised her own hand to shake his.

"I want to get to know you better, Sarra." Oliver looked up from their hands to her face; she had a mildly amused expression on her face.

"Evans!!"

She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by Flint urging her to hurry up, so that they could go over plays in the Great Hall over dinner. Sarra withdrew her hand, and left giving Oliver a quick wink.

While he watched her walk up the slope towards the school, Oliver knew that he did indeed have feelings for a certain girl, who was sure to give him hell this coming weekend.

--

--

Harry Potter couldn't believe he stood up to a fifth year! He had felt so very manly and grown-up, but Angelina and Katie had to go and ruin it by saying, "You really shouldn't have done that Harry." "Oliver can take care of himself." "You nearly caused a fight, Harry." He was just trying to help. It wasn't like it was entirely his fault anyway, that fifth year girl was as just as much to blame as he was! Where did she get off treating him like some little kid! Yeah, he's only eleven, but still! It's not like she's his mother or anything.

As he walked towards the Gryffindor common room from the hospital wing, Harry was hardly looking where he was going and bumped into someone who clearly couldn't see over the enormous stack of books they had. Harry got up and started stacking the books that had fallen to the floor, along with their keeper. "Jeez, Hermione! What do you need all these books for anyway? We don't have any big assignments due, do we?"

The bushy-haired girl got up and started straightening the books, "No, I was just doing some outside research. Oh, Harry! You aren't going to believe what I discovered!"

"And what is that?" He asked as he handed Hermione the rest of her books.

"Not everyone in your family is dead."

--

--

End Ch. 5

A/N – So I hope this was a better written chapter, ummm…..let me know if there is a problem! Thanks for reading, please feel free to review! (it is much appreciated!)

Itou - Tythe


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER**: I do NOT own Harry Potter or any characters therein. They belong to J. K. Rowling.

**A/N** – So! Thanks to everyone who has added GCPQ to their alert/fave lists! I really do appreciate you!!

**-----the story-----**

"_You aren't going to believe what I discovered!"_

"_And what is that?" _

"_Not everyone in your family is dead."_

"Harry? Are you there?" Hermione stared at the young boy who had at that moment apparently become quite deaf. Snapping her fingers by his ears brought him back to reality. "Did you hear what I said?" Harry looked up at her wide-eyed.

"It's not true."

"What? Yes it is."

"It can't be! Voldemort killed _everyone_ in my family to make sure that I was…out of the way. Hermione, it's just not true!"

"Harry, yes it is. Look here." She put the stack of books on the floor and began sorting through them until she got to the one she needed. 'A Potter Family History.' She flipped open to a rather large family tree. "Look," she said pointing to his parents, "There are your parents; your mother, and your father. Here, is you. Harry James Potter, born July 31, 1980, yes?" The boy nodded. "Ok, now over here, there is a daughter. There seemed to be a name entered, but it got covered up with something not unlike white-out. The birthdate is still here though…October 16, 1976. She's four years older than you."

Harry couldn't believe it. There was a chance that he still had family out there! _Real _family. "Why would they just cover up her name? That just seems silly. How do you know that she's alive?"

Hermione sighed, "Honestly, Harry, you would think that you would have known me by now. I research anything that is important, thoroughly." She opened up her book bag and pulled out several, old and yellowed copies of The Daily Prophet. Harry was about to take the papers from her when they heard the sickening drawl from their least favorite professor say, "And just what is with this rubbish cluttering the hallway?" Hermione began to bite her lip worried that Snape would find the information she had discovered and use it against them (they still believed that he was up to something evil, and that he let in that troll and all) "Umm, it's nothing professor, just discussing some homework."

"Yes, well, I suggest you do this in the Great Hall, or your common room. You are beginning to clog the corridor."

Harry looked up and down the hallway; they were literally the only ones there. "Professor, there is no one else in the hallway but—"

Snape shot his hand up to stop the arguing youth, "Ten points from Gryffindor, I will not be argued with Mr. Potter. Now, on your way."

Grumbling, Harry and Hermione gathered up most of the books (accidentally leaving a few) and headed toward the Great Hall for dinner.

Snape knelt down to get a better look at the books the two had failed to pick up. He spread them out, and began reading the titles, 'Transfigure This!: The concise, companion guide to A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration,' 'Potions! Everything That You Could Screw Up, But Shouldn't!!,' as well as an already worn out copy of 'Hogwarts, A History,' yet the very last book made Snape a bit uncomfortable, he picked it up and headed towards the Headmaster's office.

A dark, cloaked figure watched, as Snape hurriedly made his way towards Dumbledore's office, and slowly…followed.

--

--

After dinner, Sarra felt like exploring. She hadn't ever really found the time previously, being too caught up with trying to prove herself to Marcus Flint that she was just as good if not better than the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team. So, now that she had some free time alone to herself, she started walking the halls of Hogwarts looking out of the windows, chatting with whatever painting or ghost decided to strike up a conversation, and generally being in a good mood. As she rounded a corner, a painting of a boy drawing water from a well stopped her, "Miss Evans?" The boy inquired.

"Umm, yes?"

"Professor Dumbledore would like to see you in his office, right now if it's possible." The boy seemed a bit shy at giving her this message, he looked back down at the pail he seemed to be struggling with.

"Oh, well…alright then." She turned around and began walking to the Headmaster's office.

…Then it occurred to her that she didn't really know where the Headmaster's office was…

So she stopped and began asking the paintings, who very kindly and directly, directed her in the right direction.

--

--

"Severus, there is no need to worry" Dumbledore sat down behind his desk and leaned back in his chair.

"No need to worry? Sir, I beg your pardon, but there is a great deal to worry about here. The Dark Lord is on the rise again, sir. You are more aware of his spies here than he is, probably. Didn't you separate them to protect them in the first place?"

"Indeed, Severus. But you forget, we left enough of her out in the open so that if young Harry wanted to inquire about his family, he could find her."

"But, sir…How is that safe for either of them?" Dumbledore was a wise and clever, old wizard indeed, but Severus had his doubts about the man's sanity sometimes.

There was a knock at the door. Dumbledore but his finger to his mouth gesturing that he and Snape would finish the conversation later, clearing his throat, he said, "Come in."

--

--

End Ch. 6

A/N—Well, there you have it! What's gonna happen next! Dunno! Please, please, please! You're reviews are wanted!


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N—** Hey, Hey, Hey! I am sooooooo sorry about this update being so late! I've had a hard time what with computer troubles and working at my old high school with the colorguard, as well as getting ready to go back to school this semester. It's been a little short of hectic. I do so hope that you aren't too terribly angry with me!

As always I love you hear what you think about the story (as well as anything else you want to discuss!) Thank you to everyone who has been reading, and a big, big, big thanks to _**wicca in training**_ for being my first and only review so far!! _-heart-_

Anyway….here we go!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, neither do I seek to reap financial benefits from this piece of fiction. I am merely a fan yearning to manipulate Rowling's characters in such a way as to entertain myself and others.

**-----the story-----**

There was a knock at the door. Dumbledore but his finger to his mouth gesturing that he and Snape would finish the conversation later, clearing his throat, he said, "Come in."

The door opened and in stepped Sarra Evans.

"Ah! Miss Evans!" A smile came to Dumbledore's face that caused his wrinkles to be stretched upwards, regardless he did look a bit younger and less stressed.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Sarra stepped in to the office and sat down in the chair beside Snape. Dumbledore nodded absent-mindedly in response. The three sat in a silence for about ten minutes, although it felt like hours due to the complete lack of comfort on either Snap or Sarra's part. Sarra cracked her knuckles (it was a nervous habit,) as Snape cleared his throat.

"Yes, Miss Evans. I wanted to speak with you." Whatever it was the Dumbledore had been preoccupied with it was over, and now it was time to get to business. "It seems that Mister Potter's friend Miss Granger has taken it upon herself to help your brother research your family tree. Professor Snape here has discovered that she found your family history in the library."

Sarra's eyes grew wide. She didn't want to leave this school. She had too many good things going in her favor! A position on a previously male Quidditch team, a brother that she could actually talk to if he didn't hate her guts, and quite possibly a boy that she liked! She couldn't leave now! "Professors! I simply can't leave this school! I know that you must want to send me away because Harry might find me, but I simply cannot leave now that I know him, and have fallen in love with this school!" Tears had begun to well up in her eyes, she was getting to be a bit hysterical. 'Jeez, Sarra,' she thought to herself. 'This is a great way to get your self locked up in St. Mungo's. Get it together. You're tougher than this!' She wiped her eyes and mumbled and apology to her teacher and the Headmaster.

"It is quite alright. We do not wish to send you away, we just want to warn you. Strange things have been happening lately, and we want you to be careful. People are listening Miss Evans, and luckily I have a Permanent Silencing Charm on my office, or I fear some people would know more than they should." Dumbledore winked at the young lady sitting in front of him, and also gave a grave look to Snape. "There will be more bad things to come this year I'm afraid, Severus."

"Indeed, Headmaster." The Potions master turned to Sarra, "You will still be tutoring Potter and Malfoy, in fact I do believe Potter has his lesson tonight." He looked down at his Muggle watch. "I believe his class is working on a Forgetfulness Potion right now, head on to dinner, but be at my office in and hour."

Sarra nodded and left, but she still wasn't happy about tutoring her brother, and the blonde little prick who insists on making her life difficult.

--

--

"This is fantastic! Look." Harry held the newspaper out for Ron to read, he pointed at a tiny article on page six.

""_Late Friday night an attack was made in the middle of Godric's Hollows by a gang of vile persons, unidentified. Everyone in the area was killed apart from two children belonging to Mr. and Mrs. James Potter, ages 5 years and 20 months. They have been retrieved from the rubble by Professors Albus Dumbledore, and Minerva McGonagall, and will be cared for by relatives until coming of age.""_

"Woah, Harry! You have a sibling! And they are older than you! Maybe they go to school here!" Ron was just as excited for Harry as Harry himself was. The Great Hall was buzzing with delighted conversation about the trip to Hogsmeade the older kids would be taking, and Quidditch practice, and various exams, so no one was particularly interested in Harry's 'Great-New-Discovery' apart from a few Slytherins who had nothing better to do than to eavesdrop.

"What's that Potter? You not the amazing Boy-Who-Lived-Alone anymore? Pity. You're going to have to share the limelight now, you know." Malfoy smirked. He thought this was certainly a good jab at Harry, Crabbe and Goyle thought so too.

"So? What's it to you? It's not like you're the one he's related to. You're still going to be a little daddy's boy, nobody. No one will ever remember you for surviving an Unforgivable, so why should you care?" Hermione seemed to have gotten a bit braver over the past few months. The fight with the troll really got her riled up and prepared to break a few rules. She stood with her arms crossed, daring Malfoy to say anything hurtful to her. She knew she was just as intelligent if not more so as this snake of a boy standing in front of her. Luckily, he said nothing; he just sneered at her and left.

The three sighed. Life wasn't easy when you have unwanted fame, and a few others are jealous of it. Ron decided to ease the tension, "I wonder who it is."

"I wonder what House she's in." Hermione rested her head on her palm as she pondered.

"Of course she's in Gryffindor! Duh, Hermione. Look at my family! We were _all_ in Gryffindor, Ginny probably will be too! And besides, didn't you say that Harry's dad was a chaser and the captain of the Gryffindor team?" Ron was quite animated, he was using his fork full of food, to point and his siblings around the table and then at Harry.

"Yes, Ron. I know, but what about his mum? What if she was in Ravenclaw or something? Just because you're whole family is a Gryffindor doesn't mean that everyone else's is that way!" Hermione picked a piece of mashed potato out of her hair and grimaced, Ron certainly had no idea he had terrible table manners.

"Well, as long as she isn't in Slytherin, then we're all ok. I mean can you imagine? I'd have and evil witch for a sister! She might even try to kill me, and that isn't what family is about is it?" Harry spoke his two cents just as Sarra was approaching him to remind him of his tutoring, his words hurt her, but she couldn't do anything about it yet, because they hadn't figured out it was her, so she just cleared her throat.

"Potter, you have Potion tutoring with me in fifteen minutes. I expect you to be prompt. Being late will result in deduction of points and a detention." She knew that she was being a bit curt, but it served him right. She might as well deduct points anyway, for being a prat about people who had no choice about what house they were sorted into. "I will see you then." She gave one last disdainful look at his friends, turned on her heel and left towards the dungeons.

Oliver noticed the exchange between his seeker and the enemy chaser who was 'oh so wonderful.' He didn't understand, when he had met her she was sweet and laughing, but just now she seemed very cold and distant. Maybe that was just how she talked to first years…Merlin knows sometimes they need it. Determined to get to the bottom of this persona change he stood up and followed Sarra out of the Great Hall.

--

--

End Ch. 7

A/N—Oh my!!!! Stay tuned in! If you have any theories, please let me know! Who knows….maybe you're right….or maybe your idea is 10x better than mine!

Have fun. R&R.

K M Rose


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N—**This chapter is a bit short for my liking....but...here we go!

_**wicca**_: you were pretty much more or less accurate!! thought I'm not sure if this was the kind of altercation you invisioned! XD

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, neither do I seek to reap financial benefits from this piece of fiction. I am merely a fan yearning to manipulate Rowling's characters in such a way as to entertain myself and others.

**-----the story-----**

"ARRRRGH!" Sarra closed the door to the Potions classroom and let a sound of rage escape. It echoed and bounced around for a few moments before dying away. "Why does my brother have to be so incredibly horrid! Isn't he supposed to save the world and be tolerant of all peoples and all that shite? Merlin!!" She slammed a first year potions textbook on the desk. "And the fact that it's only two months into the year and he is already failing a class just makes me angry with him even more. Why is he such a damned—" As she floundered for the proper word there was a knock on the door. Startled, she opened it. She opened her mouth getting ready to light into her brother for no reason, but instead found the Gryffindor captain staring back at her. Immediately her eyes softened, but her mouth became set in a sort of scowl. "What do you want, Wood?" Oliver made to make his way into the dungeon, but Sarra stayed in the doorway.

"Well, I wanted to get and explanation about your being utterly mental. You weren't this way earlier, so why be this way now?" He looked at her, hoping to glean an answer from her expression. He couldn't.

"I don't think it's any of your god damned business, now is it, _Wood_?" As much as it hurt her to do so, she had to push him away. She couldn't get distracted with a boy and his emotions, while her brother was failing a class, and while she was trying to keep up her game during practice, plus said boy was on the only opposing team that could have even been considered a challenge for Slytherin…so she certainly couldn't develop any more feelings for him than she already had (and she had developed quite a lot).

Oliver stood there for a moment, steeling his resolve, before responding, "I thought you were different. I thought you were a real person. Turns out I was wrong. You're just as slimy as the rest your own _god damned_ house. You are a sorry excuse for a person, and an even more terrible Quidditch player." He turned away from her and started making his way out of the dungeons. He had certainly done it now. He killed the only chance he might have had at ever being with her. Merlin, he was being such a twit, but she had been one first! 'This is childish…I should go back and apologize. If she chooses to ignore it, then I was right about her anyway and I shouldn't waste my time.' He thought about what he had said to her, and decided he should give her a bit of time to cool down. She was most likely having some sort of fit about how she was a great Quidditch player, and if that was the case he didn't want to be anywhere near it.

"Oliver? What are you doing here?"

Oliver looked around the corridor before he noticed that Harry was walking towards him. "Oh, I—uhm. I was going over Pitch times with Evans…I couldn't find Flint at dinner, so I thought I'd talk to her. Where are you going, anyway?"

Harry looked a bit sheepish, "I'm failing Potions so Snape said I had to be tutored by Evans…" He stuck his tongue out and made a face of disgust.

"Oh, she's not that bad. But be careful…she isn't in the best of moods." Oliver gave a Harry a small wink of encouragement along with a halfhearted smile, and headed off to his room.

--

--

Sarra stood in the doorway looking out into the corridor. 'Had he really meant that? Did he really think that she was…'_slimy_?'' Harry had called her that earlier. It hurt more hearing from Oliver. Tearing up she turned away from the door and continued getting out the ingredients that Harry would need for a Forgetfulness Potion, though she was a bit rougher with everything than she really needed to be.

When Harry arrived, Sarra set him to concocting. There was very little verbal exchange between them, apart from Harry's occasional question, and Sarra's minimal answers and pointing out what he was doing wrong.

"I overheard at dinner that you detest Slytherins." Sarra broke the silence, wanting to understand her brother a bit better.

"Yeah…so?" He asked as if to say, "What's it to you?" or "You wanna make something of it?!" or even 'Doesn't everybody?"

"So…I want to know why. What Slytherin has ever done anything to you personally?" She watched Harry's face as he tried to come up with an instance where a Slytherin had transgressed against him.

"Nothing, I guess." He said quietly.

"So where is all of this hatred coming from?"

"My friends have said that—"

"—So, you always believe what your friends say?"

"Genrally." Harry looked down at his cauldron; he wasn't very comfortable with his tutor's sudden interest in him.

"Why is that? You seem to have a good head on your shoulders, and you don't seem to be too terribly incompetent. So, why this unfounded belief in your friends?" She already knew why, so she wasn't too sure why she was asking.

"It's just that…I didn't grow up in the Wizarding world, but of course everyone knows that."

"Do you regret that?" Sarra thought that maybe this would be the evening when she would reveal herself to be Harry's sister…maybe.

"Sometimes…" By this time he had succeeded in creating a weak Forgetfulness Potion, and his tutoring hour was up. Sarra said no more to him as he gathered his things and left the classroom.

So apparently this wasn't the night.

--

--

A dark, cloaked figure watched, as Snape hurriedly made his way towards Dumbledore's office, and slowly…followed. He stayed in the shadows…waiting…watching.

He watched as Peeves caused a third year girl to drop her books and then spook her away from them.

He watched as a romantically involved couple broke up and go their separate ways.

He watched as a fifth year girl made her way to the Headmaster's office. The figure smiled. He knew that something was special about this girl. She seemed so familiar, granted she was a student in his class, but she seemed to be more than anyone knew, and he was determined to find out.

Later, the girl reappeared exiting the Headmaster's office, she wasn't at all happy. After a few moments Professor Snape emerged, also not happy, but that was his usual emotion.

The figure ascended the gilded staircase to the Headmaster's office, with a course of action already being planned in the back of his head.

--

--

End Ch. 8

(Ooh!! I've decided that Quidditch Captains have their own rooms near their house dormitories)

Please Please Please! R&R!!!

Have fun.

K M Rose


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N—**Here is the next chapter after a much too long delay! And I apologize about it! School was very hectic this year. I switched my major and all so yeah….Please don't hate me too much.

Soundtrack for the writing of this chapter: An assorted amount of Iron and Wine, Jeff Lewis, The Decemberists, The Finches, and of course The Beatles.

Again…I am so sorry for being a terrible writer!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, neither do I seek to reap financial benefits from this piece of fiction. I am merely a fan yearning to manipulate Rowling's characters in such a way as to entertain myself and others.

**-----the story-----**

_A dark, cloaked figure watched, as Snape hurriedly made his way towards Dumbledore's office, and slowly…followed. He stayed in the shadows…waiting…watching. _

_He watched as Peeves caused a third year girl to drop her books and then spook her away from them. _

_He watched as a romantically involved couple broke up and go their separate ways. _

_He watched as a fifth year girl made her way to the Headmaster's office. The figure smiled. He knew that something was special about this girl. She seemed so familiar, granted she was a student in his class, but she seemed to be more than anyone knew, and he was determined to find out._

_Later, the girl reappeared exiting the Headmaster's office, she wasn't at all happy. After a few moments Professor Snape emerged, also not happy, but that was his usual emotion._

_The figure ascended the gilded staircase to the Headmaster's office, with a course of action already being planned in the back of his head._

It knocked on the door.

"Come in," came the headmaster's voice from the other side. It entered.

"Ah! Professor Quirrel! How may I help you?"

"Well s-sir, I was w-w-wondering if I could schedule a f-f-few extra practice sessions for all of my classes this w-weekend." The stooped man wheezed a bit as he spoke. He also had a habit of wringing his hands as if he was always afraid that he'd be reprimanded for his decisions.

"Well, Quirius, you do know that this is a Hogsmeade weekend don't you?" Dumbledore peered out over his half moon spectacles at the stuttering teacher on the other side of the desk. "Yes, s-sir I underst-st-stand, but it would only be required for the s-students ineligible to g-g-go to Hogsmeade, as well as students I have given detention to. If any other students w-wish to attend, I'll consider it bonus points."

Dumbledore narrowed his old, blue, knowledgeable eyes, and then winked. "I see no reason why your request is unreasonable! Of course you can set up these practice sessions. I dare say, if you paired the first years up with a few upperclassmen, it would give them the extra push they need to really learn and perfect what they can. Oh my look at the time," he said as he casually looked at his bare wrist, "I really must head over to Minerva's class. She asked me to help scan the children's wands to make sure that they are doing their lessons. You know, turning hat pins into Biros and the like, though of course I might teach a few of them to conjure up a good bottle of firewhiskey, eh?" He stood up and ushered Quirrel out of his office and down the gilded staircase.

At the foot of the stairs Dumbledore took Quirrel's hand and said, "You might think the glass will become full—over-flowing even, but once it is…you'll realize you much preferred it when it was empty. Have a good day Quirius!" And off he went. Quirrel stood perplexed for a moment, '_What did that mean? If he keeps talking like that he won't be much longer for this job._'

_Old fool, he won't _be_ much longer. But be careful. He could be onto me…must proceed with much more caution than before._

"Yes, this is true."

_Of course it's true! I am truth! I am right! I am what should, and will, come to be!_

"Of course, sir."

"Who are you talking to, Professor?"

Quirrel turned around to see Oliver Wood, staring at him.

"Oh! Oh, dear me! I-I-I I must have been d-d-daydreaming ag-g-again. Yes, w-well. Must n-nip off to m-my office, and get some m-more drought, f-for my zoning out! Haha." Quirrel laughed nervously, as he tried to sidle down the hallway, behind Oliver, towards the dungeons.

Oliver raised an eyebrow, "Professor, your office that way." He pointed the opposite direction that Quirrel was trying to go.

"Oh! Oh my, you are right Mr. Wood. N-now, if you d-don't mind I shall b-be off."

Oliver watched Professor Quirrel as he dottered down the hallway towards his office, he felt uneasy around him. Shrugging it off as just a feeling, he continued on his way toward the dungeons, where he knew Sarra was tutoring. He had to talk to her.

**A/N-** Ok I know that this is all a bit out of order, but I have it planned out (I think) to where it will all work out! Please review and let me know what you think! If you have any ideas about anything let me know! I might like them better and use them! R&R!

Once more I am so sorry for this chapter to be as late as it is. And the fact that it is pretty short is also something to be enraged about.

KMROSE


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N—**Here is the next chapter and now that I have the timelines good and confused….let's try and get them straightened out.

Soundtrack for the writing of this chapter: Ellie Goulding, and Bob Dylan.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, neither do I seek to reap financial benefits from this piece of fiction. I am merely a fan yearning to manipulate Rowling's characters in such a way as to entertain myself and others.

**-the story-**

Harry had been done with his Potions tutoring for an hour, yet Sarra was still in the classroom just sitting at one of the desks looking at the blackboard. She had no idea what to do….she blew up at Oliver and Harry hated her guts simply for being in Slytherin. It seemed as if she had nothing left to do but let the events unfold around her. That Granger girl was going to get to the bottom of the Potter family tree if it killed her. Unless…. Sarra knew what she had to do. She had to become "friends" with Granger and deter her from exploring the Potter history!

"Success!"

"What is a success? Harry's tutoring session?" Oliver was leaning on the door frame, hands in his pockets, one leg crossed in front of the other.

"How long have you been there?" Sarra stood up and began gathering her tutoring books, anything to avoid his gaze.

"Oh, about twenty minutes. You seemed deep in thought, so I didn't want to bother you. Let me help." He took her bag and her books from her. "C'mon." He took her hand and began dragging her out of the classroom.

"What are you doing?" She tried to catch up and match Oliver's stride. The guilt from her earlier episode with him was beginning to eat away at her even more now that he was here carrying her books.

"Apologizing."

"What! No, stop." She pulled her hand from his; she could see the hurt look on his face. "What I mean is…you don't need to apologize. I just—" She rubbed her neck trying to think of the words she wanted. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have blown up at you. I just have a few issues that need handling, that's all. So, you can give me my stuff back and I'll just go…" He handed her her books, and her bag. Tears started to prick Sarra's eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She was stronger than this.

"You don't have to handle these issues alone, you know." Oliver clamped a hand to his mouth. He hadn't intended to say that. He had meant to say something like, "Oh if there's anything you need me to do, you can, you know, ask." Something a thousand more times more subtle than what he actually said.

"What?" The tears were still threatening to fall, but now for a different reason. "What are you saying?"

"Let's just keep going." He took her hand again and led her out of the dungeons, and even out the castle. "Close your eyes."

Sarra laughed, "What? I'll fall!"

"No you won't. Just close your eyes please?" Oliver knew that this was his last chance to get with Sarra. He really liked her. He had only known her a few months, and she was of course a Slytherin, but he could tell that there was something different about her. Something brave and honest.

"Fine." She closed her eyes.

"You can open them now." Oliver took the books from her arms, as Sarra opened her eyes. Oliver had led her to the pitch, and it was filled with pixies and fireflies. There were two brooms out in the centre, along with a quaffle.

Sarra walked to the brooms. One was older and warn, it had seen many a Quidditch game, and the other was new—it even had a bow and something engraved into the handle. 'Sarra L. Evans.' "Oh, Oliver…I don't know what to say… It's lovely! You certainly shouldn't have bought me a broom!"

"Oh, tish. A player as good as you shouldn't be puttering around on an ancient school-owned Comet 140. She deserves one of the fastest newest brooms on the market, the Nimbus 2000. I think you should at least give the Gryffindor team a bit of a challenge." He winked at her, watching as a blush crawled across her face. "So, do you accept my apology?"

The tears that had been threatening to fall from her eyes suddenly burst forth as a deluge of joy, embarrassment, shame, and excitement, as the collapsed to the soft grass of the pitch. Through her sobs she managed to nod and find a handkerchief in her bag. "Oliver, this is the best thing anyone has ever done for me. And I don't know how to accept it!"

"What do you mean? Hop on and let's shoot some hoops!" Oliver grabbed up his broom and the quaffle, but before he could kick off into the night sky the quaffle was tackled from him and Sarra was nearing the centre hoop.

"Well? Aren't you coming?"

A grin wider than the Pacific Ocean spread across Oliver's face as he looked up into the eyes of the girl he was going to give his heart to. If she would let him.

_Fool! You nearly had me discovered! How am I to rule the world when I have no body of my own! We must find the Stone Quirrel!_

"Yes, master. I am aware of my crass mistake. I shall indeed be more careful in the future." Back safely in the privacy of his office, Professor Quirrell removed his heavy turban.

_Indeed you shall. If you should slip up again it could be fatal to my plans, as well as quite detrimental to your existence. You must not make any mistakes again. Is that understood?_

"Of course, sir." He slipped on his cloak, pulled up his hood and exited his office—making his way out of the castle and into the Forbidden Forrest.

A/N—Hey guys! Thanks for the continued support!

Sorry about the delay. My life has gotten all kinds of topsy turvy and I haven't really found the time to write. Please don't forget to send a review or a PM! I love you all very dearly and your support is what drives me.

KMRose


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